


Simple Gifts

by Letterblade



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: All Setup No Fucking, Collars, Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Sensory Deprivation, happy birthday Ashe have a giant pierced dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24075610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letterblade/pseuds/Letterblade
Summary: Yuri has a surprise for Ashe's birthday.
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Simple Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a kinkmeme request: "Yuri gives his size queen boyfriend Ashe to Balthus for a night to he can get fucked until he can’t think straight." Man, creating threesome tags in this fandom is complicated.
> 
> Bonus headcanon content: the dick piercings were at Yuri's order.

Ashe is entirely lost in pleasure.

The blindfold Yuri put on him, back whenever he’d started, is thick and soft and leaves him in utter darkness. And even his own moans are echoing in his skull, swimming weirdly, with his ears stuffed full of cotton-wrapped wax. He doesn’t know how many of Yuri’s strong, narrow fingers are inside him, replacing the plug he’d been wearing since before Yuri had tied him up and blindfolded him. It’s the kind of buildup he’d expect for a fisting, or that time they’d missed a zucchini under the leaves and it had been far too big to be good eats.

But it’s his birthday, and Yuri said something about a surprise, so that means it’s probably something new.

Ashe is a puddle on their bed, on his back with his legs splayed wide, and Yuri stays with him no matter how he wiggles, teasing and stretching relentlessly. His mouth feels dry from moaning, and the muted sounds of the world are impossible to make out, and his wrists are lashed to his biceps so he can’t reach down and feel, can’t touch himself, can’t _anything_. Yuri’s like that: Yuri’s exacting. A control freak. Ashe pretty much loves it.

Yuri’s sliding home a new plug. Bigger. The stretch burns for a moment before it settles inside him, and it’s such an intrusion, such a pressure on his prostate, that Ashe feels himself _shaking_ , voice dying in his throat. He feels Yuri’s hand pat his flank as he adjusts, stock-still for a moment, then squirming a little, trying to make more room in himself.

One stroke on his cock, and Ashe almost wails. Two. He’s aching hard, and he knows how it is when they play like this: he can come whenever he hits his limit, and it won’t change anything. Yuri won’t stop, will keep stuffing him full when he’s nerveless from orgasm, and it makes him _scream_ and it’s perfect. Three, and he feels himself clenching around the plug, and his legs shake like jelly.

Then Yuri lets go of his cock.

Then the mattress dips, and he feels the warmth of a body close, and a possessive tug on the velvet-lined collar around his throat. “There you go.” Yuri’s voice drops into his ear, a fond and dangerous purr, close and distinct enough to cut through the earplugs. “You might _almost_ be ready for what I’ve got in store.”

Ashe licks his lips, panting desperate. “Y-yes…yes, please…”

“I bet you’re wondering.” Yuri holds his chin to kiss him, insistent and domineering, then lets his go to stuff his fingers in instead. Two, maybe three, fucking Ashe’s mouth gagging-deep, and he moans and goes boneless. “You’re mine, yeah?”

“Mm-mm.” Ashe nods, tiny and earnest, chokes a little as Yuri pushes on the root of his tongue, and loves him so much he feels like his chest is going to burst.

“I can do anything I want with this sweet body of yours?”

“Mm-mm.”

“I can share what’s mine with anyone I choose?”

A hot shiver of excitement jolts through him. They’ve talked about this—dirty talk, more than once, and even seriously a month or two ago—but they’ve never—had someone come in when he couldn’t hear? More than one? Ashe’s head spins, wondering who might be in the room with him, watching him naked and tied up and finger-fucked—a stranger? A friend? A circle of Yuri’s mafia goons?

Yuri’s fingers pull out enough to let him speak, dragging the thick drool from his throat up around his dry lips, filthy and tender.

“Yes,” Ashe blurts, barely recognizing his own voice. “Yes, anyone you, I trust you, yes.”

There’s a pleased laugh. Some—rustling, maybe, movement? Ashe can’t tell. Yuri’s hand turns his face to one side, insistent, holding his cheek to the mattress.

Somebody tugs off his blindfold.

He winces, and for a moment all he can see is bright light.

Then there’s a dick. Right there, in front of his face. It looks—huge. Veiny. So thick his mouth waters at the sight of it. Heavy beads of steel line the underside in pairs—two, four, six. Ashe blinks hard, trying to get a sense of scale—is it really that big or is he just very close to it—and who? A wall of scarred muscle flexes: the man’s thigh. His eyes track up over chisel-cut hips, the swell of abs, a whole stretch of foreshortened chest, a wild mane of dark hair—

“Sweet goddess,” Ashe breathes, fervent, and feels himself blush to his very ears. “H-hi, Balthus.”

Balthus laughs, warm and booming even through the earplugs, and ruffles his hair with one big bony hand. Saints, his _hand_ could probably cover Ashe’s face entirely. The cock’s proportional to the man. Ashe practically shakes with helpless arousal.

Yuri laughs, fond and a little wicked. “Yeah, she’s smiling on you today, isn’t she?” He plucks out one earplug, and Balthus turns Ashe’s head with a fistful of hair, effortless, so he can get the other.

“Is this really,” Ashe manages, feeling red all down his chest. “You’re both—okay with this?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Balthus says with good cheer. He’s buck naked, Ashe realizes, except for—except for a collar, black leather, thick as a bulldog’s round his muscled throat. “The boss and I go way back, you know. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been his stunt cock.”

“S-stunt cock,” Ashe giggles.

“Long as you think you can handle me,” Balthus says, grinning, and gives his cock a tug, and Ashe can see how big it is in his hand, and—yes, yes, he’s not sure he _can_ but he wants to.

“Oh, he can,” Yuri cuts in, dangerous. “I set this up, Ashe. Of _course_ I’m okay with it. Happy birthday.” He pats his cheek, a little firm, not quite a slap. “Now be a good boy and take what you’re given. Every inch.”

Ashe _whines_ , feels his own cock twitch against his stomach, and Yuri gags him with his fingers again before he can talk, and that knocks the last bit of wind out of him, sends him falling back into the haze of surrender. A little movement around him. Yuri hands Balthus a little bundle of leather.

“Buckle that snug,” Yuri says. “You’re going to _last_ , Balthus. Don’t stop when he comes, don’t stop when he begs, don’t stop when he cries, don’t stop when he makes kind of scary rattling noises, because he does that when he comes dry and he _wants_ to be broken.” He thrusts his hand in Ashe’s mouth on that, making him choke for punctuation, and Ashe shakes like a leaf and lets his eyes drift shut. “Feed him for now. See how deep he can get you. I’ll tell you when he’s ready to be dropped onto your dick.”

Balthus’ huge callused hand slides into Ashe’s hair, takes a fistful to hold snug, and Yuri lets him go, drags his wet fingers down his chin.

“Please,” Ashe breathes. “Yes.”

The head of Balthus’ dick fills his lips, and he laves his tongue around it in greeting, desperately eager. Ashe can feel the piercings slide against his tongue as he pushes deeper, and his eyes roll back in his head at the thought of that inside him, right on his sensitive spot.

Yuri twists the plug slowly inside him and gives a teasing stroke to his dick, and Ashe goes boneless on the mattress, lets Balthus drag his head back for a better angle, and shakes with surrender.

“Shit, yeah,” Balthus rumbles, and gives one little thrust of his hips, almost delicate, and Ashe chokes and feels his eyes water. “Happy birthday, pal.”


End file.
